The Girl Next Door
by cutelilpuppieyez
Summary: Suguru and Tohma have always been quiet and withdrawn, but why? When Suguru is informed of a terrible accident, he is forced to visit the house of his and Tohma's childhood, and both men must relive the horrors they faced there so long ago. Mild AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **Wow. It's been a while. I found this story in the depths of my computer, and really liked it. I would say its AU, it mostly deals with Suguru and Tohma's childhood. Anyways, I won't go on any longer. Let me know what you think 

**Disclaimer: **The characters belong to Maki Murakami…

**Warnings:** This story is about Tohma and Suguru mostly. There are a lot of original characters in it.

Chapter One:

"Okay, everybody stop for a second. Suguru, what the hell are you doing?" The loud voice came over the microphone, overriding the music and interrupting their jam session. It was about the tenth time in five minutes, and everyone was getting annoyed. Even the normally calm Hiro impatiently tore his head phones off his head and tossed them, albeit gently, onto the floor, before giving Suguru a mild glare. This was a lot, coming from Hiro.

The keyboardist felt bad. But it wasn't his fault. He was tired; yesterday his nightmares had been playing out full force all night, and he didn't even want to sleep after a few hours of seeing the same grisly scenes play over and over in his head.

"Aw come on K!" Shuichi plopped to the floor and stared up at their manager with pleading eyes, "We've done this fifty million times! It sounds fine!" Personally, Shuichi didn't think that the music was up to its usual standards, but he really did not want to sing again. His throat was killing him, and he was worried about something his girlfriend had said the other night. But why did they have to pay for Suguru? What the hell was wrong with that kid today anyways? Was he having girl trouble or something? Looking at the slight boy, he laughed and disregarded that possibility. Boy trouble maybe? Who ever knew with Suguru? He always had that same blank expression. It was creepy, so much like Tohma, but at the same time, nothing at all like him.

"It's perfect." Shuichi repeated his feeble defense, but he knew that it was useless. They weren't the number one band in the country because their manager let them get away with anything. In fact, the manager was something of a perfectionist, which made life a little difficult, but ultimately more rewarding. Not that he'd ever admit it.

"Maybe for a bunch of amateurs, but not you guys. Anyways, you know what they say: fifty millionth and first time is the charm! Ho ho ho!" But when he looked through the window at the exhausted band, he relented. "Okay, five minute break! And it'd better be perfect the first time, or you don't leave here until ten o'clock."

Shuichi waited until he saw both K and Sakano exit the studio room, and then rounded on Suguru.

"What the hell man? What's your problem today?" Suguru gave him a dark, smoldering stare that brought a blush to the singer's cheeks until he had to look away, making Shuichi even angrier. "What's going on?"

"Hey." Shuichi looked at Hiro in surprise. His best friend just shook his head. "Leave him alone Shu, he's obviously not having a good day." It _was_ obvious, although Shuichi was never one to pay attention to detail. Suguru had dark, heavy bags under his eyes, and his hair was messy, which normally he wouldn't allow. The shirt he was wearing was wrinkled, and Hiro suspected that he had slept in it the night before. Something else Shuichi wasn't quite perceptive enough to notice, was that the small keyboardist had been losing weight recently, and he didn't have much to spare in the first place. In fact, Hiro had been planning to talk to K about it that day, although he was sure that the manager already knew. The American, for all his insanity, wasn't an idiot.

Shuichi's lip curled into a pout at his perceived betrayal of the alliance between Hiro and himself. But Hiro wasn't in the mood for these ridiculous children games today. He purposely avoided eye contact with the singer, and after a moment of looking between Hiro and Suguru, Shuichi looked at the floor. Just then, K burst back into the room.

"Let's get to work, and make it sound good this time Shuichi!" Said singer burst immediately into tears and ran from the room, wailing at the top of his lungs. Hiro looked as though he was going to follow him for a second, but first turned back to Suguru. The guitarist opened his mouth, but never got to finish his sentence, because a gun was pressed up to his head.

"Go find him, and bring him back. Now." Hiro reluctantly complied, sending a worried glance back at Suguru standing by himself in the middle of the room. A look crossed the keyboardist's face. Only for an instant, but it was there, and it was the loneliest look Hiro had ever seen in his life. He almost turned back to talk to him, but K was glaring at him from a conversation with Sakano, so he decided to begin the search for Shuichi, keep his life, and talk to Suguru later. Today even, he promised himself. But promises like that have a way of breaking themselves.

* * *

Suguru had thought for a second that Hiro was going to come back and stay with him, instead of going off to find that hypochondriac, and maybe he could finally tell someone. Not all of it, but a bit; enough to release some of the pressure that had been building up lately. But he was disappointed once again. He had been stupid to think that anyone would care. To disguise the hurt that he was sure was evident in his face, he hung his head down, pretending to examine his fingernails. When he looked up again, Hiro was gone.

Hiro, unbeknownst to Suguru, was incredibly worried about the keyboardist. As he opened doors and looked under tables, half heartedly calling the singer's name, he was really thinking about the small, dark boy who was currently all alone in the studio with his thoughts. The guitarist knew well enough that holding in emotions only served to corrode the barriers of the mind, like trying to hold acid in one's bare hands. Shuichi would survive, he decided, turning back to go to the studio. The hyperactive boy would probably go find Ryuichi and cry on his shoulder if he didn't have Hiro there, and that was fine with the redhead. To be honest, he was really getting tired of the constant bitching and moaning that was part of being around Shuichi.

Unfortunately, his plan to let someone else deal with Shuichi didn't end up working, when he decided to stop in the bathroom before heading back to the studio room. The pink haired boy was curled up in a ball on the counter, sobbing loudly into his lap. As Hiro walked into the room, Shuichi looked up and flung himself at his best friend.

"Hiro! They're so mean to me! How could K talk to me like that? He knows that it was Suguru's fault! I didn't do anything wrong! I was trying my hardest! It's not fair!" Shuichi started off into a new round of tears, burying his head in Hiro's chest. After a moment, he seemed to get a hold of himself, and surfaced for air, sniffling pathetically. "Hiro? You sometimes take his side too." The singer let go of his tight grip of his friend's shirt and stared up at him accusingly. "Sometimes, I think that you like him better than me."

Hiro was at a loss for words. There was no way that Shuichi could have misunderstood him anymore. Where did he get his crazy ideas from? Just because he didn't always agree with the singer, it didn't mean he didn't like him as much! This was grade school mentality, coming from a nineteen-year-old, and it sounded ridiculous.

Meanwhile, Shuichi was welling up with tears again, certain that Hiro's silence was his agreeing with his accusation. Did everybody just hate him? Was he _that _annoying, that people had to yell at him all the time? It wasn't fair, it just wasn't—

"Stupid boy." Shuchi looked up in surprise and the tone of voice Hiro used. He had never heard anything like it coming from the mild guitarist, in all the years they'd been friends.

"Wha..what?"

"You heard me. Pull yourself together. You're an adult, you can't be falling apart every time someone looks at you wrong, you ridiculous, ridiculous little boy. Suck it fucking up. The world isn't fair. Everyone knows that. You can't expect everything to always turn out your way." Shuichi's face fell again, and Hiro was afraid he was going to cry again. But then the singer looked up at him with a forced smile, and slowly walked out of the bathroom, trying to retain some dignity.

Hiro collapsed against the counter. Had he just estranged one of his few friends? That look on Shuichi's face…but it had felt good. His conscience was barely complaining, just a slight twinge of sickness in his stomach, but he could stand it, especially if he didn't have to listen to anymore whining. Although, it probably hadn't fully hit him yet, the entirety of what he had just done.

What did Shuichi's girlfriend have to go through every night? In fact, how did he even get a girlfriend in the first place; the singer was more like a girl himself. And now Hiro had accidentally added to her load. He should have been guilty for feeling relieved, but he really wasn't. He was already thinking back to Suguru, all alone in the room.

Damn, he wanted to go back to see him, but he couldn't. What if Shuichi was there? What would he say? Would he ignore him completely? If Hiro went over to talk to Suguru, he would push Shuichi even farther away. Now the guitarist was really starting to feel guilty. Already, he was subconsciously planning out ways to make it up to the fragile singer, and at the same time talk to Suguru.

Hiro realized that it would never work, to try to solve both problems at the same time. He had to do it one at a time. Unfortunately, that created a decision; he had to decide who was more important to him: Suguru, a boy who was relatively new to his life, or Shuichi, who he'd known forever.

The choice was obvious. It had practically been made before the situation ever arose. Before he'd even known the small, dark boy who played the keyboard like an angel. As much as he'd want to deny it, he was dedicated to Shuichi first. And he had to fix their relationship before he could get around to helping anyone else in his life.

* * *

Suguru looked up as the long missing guitarist walked into the room, and brightened immediately. Obviously, Hiro and Shuichi had been fighting, because soon after Hiro had left, the singer had coming running back into the room, and when K asked if he'd seen Hiro, he'd burst into tears again. This meant that Hiro was free to come over to him, and maybe Suguru could finally talk to someone who might understand. But Hiro was still standing in the doorway, looking between the moaning Shuichi, and the quiet boy who was tucked away in the corner. Suguru caught his eyes, and saw the apology there, unsaid, and in an instant, knew what Hiro was going to do. Tearing his eyes away, the keyboardist buried his nose in the music book he was reverently studying. Each footstep towards Shuichi echoed in a sick song in his mind. _Betrayed, betrayed, betrayed again. Betrayed, betrayed, betrayed again._

This time around, Bad Luck got the song on the first try. Maybe it was because Shuichi was in such a good mood, or maybe that Suguru was concentrating so hard on his music, so he could block the world out. Whatever it was, K was extremely pleased. So pleased, in fact, that he allowed them to have another short break before they attempted the next song.

Suguru dreaded the producer and manager inevitably leaving the room, leaving him alone with Hiro and Suguru. It was like being at school all over again, except worse because they were adults, and could deal with their problems a little more maturely. Well, at least he and Hiro could. He couldn't account for Shuichi. The pink haired idiot was completely beyond any comprehension he could ever muster up; sometimes he was a serious, contributing member of their group, sometimes even the most valuable, but there were days when he wondered what the scientist's had done with the singer's brain, and if there was a fourteen year old girl somewhere out there with the brain of a nineteen-year-old boy.

Just as it seemed that K and Sakano were going to leave, there was an unusually welcome interruption from none other than the boss of NG Records. Tohma casually walked in the door, in his floating manner, looking, for all the world, a blonde angel. But Suguru knew that he was far from it. Every so often, the black haired boy would praise whatever deity had made him related to Tohma, and therefore, untouchable. Of course, there were also days when even the mention of blood ties couldn't keep the man from scaring him, like the day that he had seen…well, he didn't like to think of that anymore. Especially when the blond man was around. It almost seemed as though the small, but intimidating man could read his thoughts, and that was one of the most frightening things Suguru could think of.

Tohma quietly conversed with the two men for a moment, every so often looking over at Suguru. His ears burned with curiosity. What were they talking about? Why did his cousin look so solemn, well, at least more so than usual? The older man caught his eyes for a second, and held them in a long, thoughtful glance. He seemed to be sizing up his young charge. Something in the pit of Suguru's stomach dropped, and nausea swarmed his senses. For a moment, his vision went blurry, and as he put out a hand to steady himself, he found, instead of empty space, a strong hand helping him stay upright. He looked up in to a face, partially obscured by red hair, and full of worry.

A second later, Tohma was by his side, supporting an arm under his shoulder, and shooing everyone away. Suguru tuned into what he was saying: "…have to talk to him alone right now…" Oh great. His sickness didn't decrease as he watched the rest of the band and company slowly file from the room, occasionally looking over their shoulders in order to get a hint of what was going on.

Suguru slowly stumbled towards the couch in the side of the room, trying, for all he was worth, not to lean on his cousin. Slowly, he sunk down on the couch, and ever-so-slowly drew out his asking of the inevitable. Tohma waited patiently, just like Suguru knew he would, staring at the young boy with a steady, unwavering expression. Finally, he cracked.

"Okay Tohma, what happened?" Sighing, he closed his eyes and tried to think about something else. Maybe if he tuned it out, Tohma would _think_ that he had heard, and would leave him alone. Then, he'd never have to know.

Unfortunately, it seemed like his cousin wasn't going to let that happen. He set a heavy hand on Suguru's shoulders, tightening his grip until the boy met his eyes. "Suguru…there was, an accident." Tohma coughed, and broke eye contact for a second. This scared Suguru even more than the; he had never, ever seen his cousin hesitate for anything. "Your parents were in the car, and they crossed an intersection at the wrong time, and…there was a bus coming in the other direction and…" He stopped talking again.

Strangely, Suguru's head had cleared. His dizziness had just gone away at the mention of his parents. Tohma stared at his, trying to see if he understood, to gauge his reaction. But he understood, quite clearly in fact; his parents were dead, and he was even more alone than ever. And he felt nothing inside. Not even the slightest bit of remorse, sorrow, regret for things not said, or anything else. It was like his heart was a black hole, sucking up any emotion until he was empty. Standing up, he walked over to Tohma's side, put his hand on his cousin's shoulder, and looked deep into his eyes.

"It's okay Tohma, I understand. They're dead." The blonde couldn't keep the smallest bit of surprise from showing in his eyes. Although people would say that Suguru was taking it considerably well, he knew that his small cousin was similar to him when it came to controlling emotions, and was unconsciously bottling this up inside. He had learned the hard way how unhealthy it was, with years of intensive therapy during his youth, and then again after the…family incident. There was _not _going to be a repeat of that, if he could help it. And he could. After all, he was Tohma Seguchi, boss of NG records, and capable of doing basically anything he wanted.

"I need to take you over to the house, so you can go through some of your things. I'm sorry it has to be so rushed, but since they had just sold the house, and the new owners want to move in soon, everything has to be cleared out within a few weeks." Suguru stared at his cousin angrily. They had sold the house? When? Had they been planning on telling him ever? This was ridiculous. He had to get back to work; he didn't have time to go through all the junk in that enormous house. It would take _weeks_. And it would bring back too many memories, and he wasn't ready to handle that just yet. Unfortunately, as always, Tohma read him easily.

"Suguru." The younger boy looked away petulantly. "Suguru. Look at me." Sighing, he gave in.

"What?"

"Suguru…you can't stay away forever. Eventually you're going to have to go back, and you might as well get it over with now, and then you'll never have to think about it again. You can handle it; you're strong enough. Don't worry." What was this? The great Tohma Seguchi, showing his sensitive side like this? It was practically unheard of, even in their family. But then again, Tohma and Suguru had always had a deep connection, probably because they were so much alike. Although Suguru did not fail to notice that Tohma was using the word "you" and not "we". Apparently he wasn't coming, the hypocrite.

"Come on, I'll drive you home, and tomorrow, I'll pick you up in the morning to get you over there."

* * *

The next morning, true to his word, Tohma arrived in his car to take Suguru to the dreaded place of his childhood. On the ride there, the blond kept shooting (what he thought were) sneaky glances over to see how the smaller boy was reacting. It was just as he thought: the sharp, cold ahead stare that he saw every time he looked in the mirror. He sighed quietly, knowing that it was futile to talk to him while he was acting like this; sometimes, he wondered if it was this frustrating for other people to talk to _him_ (he hoped so). Instead, he brought up random ideas about Bad Luck, to help the younger keyboardist relax a little bit, photo shoots, talk show scheduling, the release of the newest single, anything to get the boy to let down his defenses just a little bit.

It worked. Suguru could always be provoked by his passion of music, and soon, the normally withdrawn boy was animatedly waving his hands, demonstrating new finger placements on the dashboard, and arguing about the reliability of Shuichi. Tohma was surprised to learn that Suguru adamantly defended the singer, despite his obvious dislike for the boy; it must be band loyalty, he mused. That was always key in a good band.

Once his cousin had dropped his guard to a sufficient level, Tohma dropped the bomb.

"So, do you miss them?" Suguru's head whipped around to stare at his devious cousin suspiciously, trying to decide what his motives were. It had to be something important; Tohma had always said that silence was better, unless you needed to know something, in which case, never stop talking until you know it. Unfortunately though, for Tohma, Suguru knew almost every one of his scare tactics and mannerisms intimately, having perpetually studied his cousin since he was a child looking up to an idol. Reflecting back on that now, Suguru came to realize that he really was still that child, looking up to a godly cousin who had fallen no level in his esteem. The fact that Tohma had suffered through the same things as him just made the man even stronger in his eyes.

"Not particularly…" He'd let Tohma chew one that one for a while; maybe it would buy him some much needed to peace so that he could honestly answer that question for himself. It was true that at the moment, he wasn't feeling as significant amount of sorrow, but maybe that would come later. Maybe he was in shock. A snort escaped from his nose. Unlikely; it seemed more like he was just completely unfazed by the whole affair. In an attempt to elicit some emotion from himself, Suguru tried to picture his mother's smiling face in his mind's eye, and, when he didn't have any luck, his father's. But he couldn't do it. For some reason, he couldn't recall a specific face, only features.

_Interesting, _he mused to himself, _very interesting._

They spent the rest of the trip in silence, Suguru making the assumption that Tohma was thinking about his earlier comment, while Tohma had already recognized the comment as an attempt to buy time, and was letting Suguru think things over.

* * *

The house looked even more deserted and depressing than usual to Suguru. As Tohma pulled his car up to the driveway, it became obvious that no one had really lived in it for quite a while. Once again, the keyboardist wondered at the decision that his parents had made to not tell him about selling the house. For a moment, he was curious what house they had bought, but dismissed it quickly. He didn't really care that much, he told himself. The garden in front of the house, which his mother had taken such good care of was now run over with weeds, spilling out onto the walkway and driveway. These paths themselves were looking neglected too; deep cracks that his father was have at one time filled with concrete ran all the way from one end to the other. For a second, Suguru felt a twinge of sadness for the condition of the house. Now that there wasn't anyone to take proper care of it, it was in a terrible state.

_Just like me…_ Suguru smirked at his own dramatics. _As if I need someone to "weed my gardens" and "fill in my cracks". I've grown up since then. I don't really need anyone anymore... or maybe I'm just not needed by anybody…_the thought unnerved him, and he pushed it away viciously.

As Suguru stepped tentatively out of the car, Tohma pulled away as soon as possible, leaving a knowing smile on his cousin's face. Apparently he wasn't the only one who had a dark past connected with this house. At one point in time, Tohma had lived here too, with his family, but that was a very long time ago. Then, his idolized older cousin had moved out when he was twenty, for reasons that the young keyboardist had never really inquired after, and had never been told, leaving Suguru stranded without the one person who had really understood him at the age of five. In fact, a lot of their family used to live in this spacey house. Most had moved out after the accident, although some hadn't been lucky enough to leave, and as Suguru had grown up, the rest had left, until only his family was left.

Putting on an act for an invisible audience, Suguru calmly approached the front door, which was hanging slightly crooked on rusted hinges. For a moment, he dropped the pretense and bent down to examine the rusted devices, frowning. Not for the last time, he wondered how long his parents had not been living here. Suddenly, the door creaked back, and Suguru saw that the door hadn't been locked, much less closed properly. From inside, all that was visible was the blunt shadow of a crooked table, leaning against the wall by the door, looking as though the only reason it was standing was the cobwebs gluing it to the wall.

Suguru stepped delicately into the house, as though trying not to disturb the spirits. The entire front room was cloaked with darkness; the windows, long ago boarded up stopped all but the tiniest crack of light from coming in. And yet, the house seemed to glow dully, from an unknown source. It scared Suguru, so badly that he ran to the wall and fumbled for a light switch that he knew was there. His fingers caught on the plastic, and suddenly the room was illuminated with an intense light that blinded him at first.

As his eyes grew accustomed to the light, Suguru wished that he had stayed in the dark. From every direction, memories assaulted him. The familiar wallpaper, carpet, pictures on the wall, everything was screaming for attention. Scenes from too long ago swirled around his eyes, making him strain to see the blurs as they sped by, and ultimately causing the keyboardist a great deal of dizziness.

Suguru's eyes widened as, in his delirious state, he imagined the people in the pictures crawling out of their frames, and standing to face him in the small room. Soon, he was crowed up against the wall, sobbing fearfully and pushing at the spectors of his mind. The ghosts stared at him with dark, accusing eyes, asking him silent questions. They all reached pale silver fingers out to him, stroking his arms and cheeks, and his neck. Suguru felt cold tendrils tightening around his neck, and he began to struggle, but when he lashed out, nothing was there. His mind was playing tricks on him again, and he knew it, but as hard as he willed away the ghosts, he still couldn't breathe, could still feel their fingers stroking his throat longingly, watching the life that flowed through there.

With one trembling hand, the boy reached across the hallway and flicked the switch down again. Immediately, hands disappeared, along with their owners, and Suguru was happy to see that they were back inside the pictures again; he was safe for now. Massaging his neck with one hand, he used the other to navigate down the hallway deeper into this dreaded house, which held such horrors for him.

______________________________________________________________________________

Okay, that's it for the first chapter. Please review and let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks to everyone who read the story and reviewed! Here's Chapter Two...

* * *

Chapter Two:

Tohma drove slowly back to Tokyo, thinking of things that he had avoided for more than half of his life. A guilty conscience settled on his mind, chastising him for leaving Suguru there alone; he knew only too well how terrifying that house was, and that was exactly why he wasn't there. It was one of the very few things in Tohma's life that scared him, right up there beside the things that manifested themselves in the deepest, darkest corner of his mind, and refused to leave. That scared him too, the idea that he would remember exactly how everything had happened, the terror of those times, and the overwhelming emotions that had eventually led to a break down.

An obnoxious honking startled him out of his thoughts, and Tohma was anxious to see that he had stopped concentrating on where he was driving, a reckless risk that he would never take on a normal day. Pulling over to the side of the road, he let the impatient man drive by, acknowledging his troubles with the elegant wave of a gloved hand. It was best that he stayed out of traffic for a while, at least until he sorted out his emotions. He had let them go like this only once before, more than ten years ago, and it had disastrous consequences, and he would be damned if after escaping it for all these years, it would be the cause of his death.

The normally calm and collected man dreamily opened his door, nearly losing it to another car going by at top speed. Visibly shaken, Tohma carefully crawled across the car to get out the other, much safer side, fearing for his life, but more importantly his state of mind. Maybe a walk would sort him out.

Without bothering to lock his car door, Tohma began to walk down the shoulder, already lost in his memories again…

* * *

He had only been seventeen when the family moved in next door, and as usual, Tohma didn't really show any interest in them at first. His life was fine as it was; he didn't need anything else. As far as he was concerned, even without a pretty girlfriend, he had nice friends who were also in a band with him, and a great school, the world could never change, and he would be the happiest person alive. Unfortunately, there were other plans in store for him.

Against his will, he was sent over to the house by his mother, carrying a basket of welcoming gifts that, as far as he was concerned, were unnecessary. According to the young man, his parents didn't need any new friends, and either did he. So why were they extending this friendly hand?

Halfway up the driveway, he stopped dead. His thoughts, and slightly rebellious nature that is natural in most teenagers made him reconsider what he was doing. His mother had legs; she could do this herself. Thinking this, Tohma almost turned back to his own house. For a moment, he teetered on the brink of indecision, wanting to go home, knowing he shouldn't.

If only Tohma could have known that doing just that would have saved him the events that changed his life forever. If only he hadn't given into the ever present parental threat, turned around, and walked home, maybe he'd still be happy. Maybe he wouldn't have to smile that creepy smile that scared himself more that anyone else, because he would have had a real smile. Had he known that the decision to continue would bring what it brought, Tohma would have run home and hide under his bed like a six year old.

But instead, he obediently went up to the door, and with only a moment's more of hesitation, Tohma rang the doorbell. Strangely, a feeling of dread ran through his body, until the point where all he wanted to do was dump the cookies and hide. However, the boy prided himself on being particularly diligent with self-discipline, and forced himself to stand there, even as he heard steps nearing the door. The closer they got, the more anxious he became, until the point that he almost passed out and the door swung open and revealed…

…A relatively normal looking girl, besides her obvious beauty. Tohma immediately forgot his feelings of unease, and introduced himself happily.

* * *

Suguru wandered his way into the kitchen, running his hands along the walls. Imagining the secrets that were buried under that coat of paint, he shuddered. In fact, at some spots along the wall, presumably where some picture had hung at one time, there was a glimpse into the past.

The boy went up to one of said spots, and began scratching obsessively at the paint. Dried flakes flew past his head and settled in his hair and on his shoulders, irritating his sensitive nose. He paused from his ministrations to sneeze violently three times, and then looked up to see the ruined wall, chips of white bordering around a blackened support wall.

Suguru lightly ran his fingers over the charred material. It felt wrong somehow, unnatural. Hissing, he took his fingers away as if he'd been burned. The sight of the blackness was bringing back memories that he wasn't ready for. Still, even when he wasn't touching the wall, he could hear the screams in his head, see the frightened look in their eyes—

No. That was in the past, and never to be thought about again. Suguru grasped at the escaped memory, and pushed it back into the part of his head reserved for those memories alone, never meant to be thought about again.

He continued down the hallway, occasionally picking up his feet to avoid forgotten objects lying in the hallway. A particularly sharp looking fragment of what appeared to be an old frying pan almost caught him off guard, but he managed to do a balancing dance, ending up with his hand propping him up against the wall.

The object beneath his hand felt foreign, unlike the dry crackly wallpaper. Suspiciously, he peered at it in the dim light, making out a dim, old family picture. Everyone was smiling widely; it had been a beautiful day. Surprisingly, it was one of the few amazing days that Suguru remembered from his childhood.

He peered in closer. Sure enough, seated firmly on his mother's lap was his six-year-old self, mid-squirm, but still smiling delightedly at the camera. An affectionate arm was draped over his head by Sukito—

Suguru felt the sting of tears, and pulled his gaze away from the confident boy that smiled so charmingly at the camera, unsuspectingly. It occurred to the keyboardist that that he was about Sukito's age now, something he had always looked forwards to when he was younger. Now, he'd give anything to be that innocent six-year-old again.

He noticed that at the edge of the picture, Tohma was lurking with a scowl on his face. At just past twenty, the man looked identical to his thirty-year-old, disregarding the lack of that ever-so-familiar smile on his face. This Tohma just looked…haunted. Suguru recalled that his older cousin had been going through therapy at that time, although at such a young age, Suguru hadn't been told the reason. Now, he knew, and he suspected that if he had been told, or at least warned then, a lot of misfortunes could have been avoided.

But that, of course, was the curse of the family. They kept things from each other until it was too late, and it usually ended up hurting someone other than themselves.

Examining the shot of Tohma more closely, Suguru saw that his cousin had a furtive look in his eyes, which weren't focused on the camera, but rather something behind the gathered family. It occurred to the boy that the photographer, although probably not even realizing, had caught Tohma in a moment that not many people had even seen; a moment without his mask on. The emotions in this picture were pure. Pure what, Suguru wasn't sure, but they were basic and strong.

Looking at the picture was becoming too hard, so Suguru continued down the hallways, his destination unknown. He just needed to go somewhere, to keep moving so he wouldn't have to think too much.

The boy entered the piano room, where its namesake sat, in a perceived perfect condition in the corner. He smiled; it had been so long since he'd played this one. The wonderful piano he had grown up playing that, even after the incident, hadn't been harmed, and still held a joyous escape from life.

Suguru sat down at the old piano, the whispers of ghostly music seeming to fill his ears. Closing his eyes, Suguru placed his fingers on the familiar surface. As soon as he touched the keys, he was surrounded by cheering family and friends, encouraging the happy six-year-old, to play another song. Through a child's eyes, he saw cousin Tohma sitting by himself in the corner, who, up until this point had been staring pensively out the window, but now was staring at Suguru with those intense green eyes, and an uncharacteristic smile on his lips.

Joy filled the small boy; he had made Tohma smile. Not even his mother could do that, and she could do everything.

He took his tiny fingers off the piano dramatically to finish the song, and he was back in the old, dirty room by himself.

* * *

Tohma had finally found a place to sit, after walking for quite a while. Shivering, he drew his coat more tightly around his waist, as the snow flakes sprinkled down on his face, and disappeared into his hair.

It had been a long time since he'd set foot in that house, even longer since he'd been there willingly. Maybe it was time to visit for once last time, before the house was sold. Tohma winced at the thought; he had spent so many years avoiding that house, making excuses of any kind to stay away, that it would take a while before he could willingly go back.

The snow fell harder.

* * *

A younger, cheerier Tohma bounced happily into his house. He was in love. Thanking the gods that allowed him to meet his wonderful new neighbours, he ran into the kitchen to find someone to share his wonderful news with.

His mother, the usual person who'd he'd confide in didn't appear to be present. Maybe she was out getting groceries, which was unusual, because usually she'd get him to do something like that, but apparently since he was away, she'd taken it upon herself to do it this time. Strange. But as Tohma checked the clock, he realized why.

It was an hour and a half since he'd left the house. Oh, well he'd have to go find someone else to talk to. That someone turned out to be Sukito, the next person to walk into the room, laden down with an armful of books, his reading glasses perched on his nose, as ever. Tohma jumped up and grabbed a handful of books, which were on the verge of tipping, and carefully set the on the counter, before dropping down into a chair and looking at his younger cousin with a wide grin on his face.

"What?"

"Nothing…just…" The ever perceptive Sukito caught the tone, and with a suffering sigh, sat down in the chair next to his crazy relation, and prompted the excited teen with a short glance.

"Well, Okaa-san sent me over to the neighbours to deliver some stuff…" Tohma could barely contain his excitement; he jumped out of the chair and started pacing around the kitchen, throwing an apple from hand to hand impatiently. It seemed like he had too many words, and they all wouldn't fit out of his mouth at once, and everything was getting jumbled up in his head, and—

"Take a deep breath," the blond boy did so obediently, "Okay, now let it out. Now, tell me what happened."

"Well, at first, I was afraid, because I had this weird feeling, but then I came in, and talked to her for a while…" Tohma missed the eye-rolling on Sukito's part.

"Oh? Her?" Sukito couldn't keep a smirk off his face, "So that's what this is about…I should have guessed, seeing as it's you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" The innocent look on Tohma's face proceeded to crack up the younger boy. The hysterical laughter was catching, and soon both boys were in tears; Tohma's reputation in the family was the boy with a million girlfriends. It seemed like he'd meet a new girl every week, fall in love, swoon over her, get bored, and dump her.

He knew that this sort of behavior worried his mother (he'd heard her talking about him with one of his aunts), and she didn't even know the half of it. His mother only ever met the girls he brought home, which were about…half of them.

"Okay, but seriously." Sukito wiped the last of the tears out of his eyes, and put a serious expression on his face, an ability that Tohma had always admired. His family always said that the blond boy wore his emotions on his face, which wasn't exactly convenient.

"Well, her name is Kikuyo," The girlish boy giggled, and Sukito wondered, not for the first time, how he ever managed to get so many girls, "she's very pretty…"

"Of course." A dirty look, and Sukito ceased his interruptions, for the moment at least.

"And she's got a brother too," At the mention of this, Sukito perked up. There weren't any boys his age around here, and he would welcome a potential friend. But Tohma seemed to read his mind. "No, he's actually the same age as her, they're twins. He's pretty good looking too, for a guy…actually, he looks kinda like a chick anyways."

Sukito snorted; here was a classic example of irony. Apparently somebody hadn't been looking in the mirror lately. There was nobody else in the family that looked more like a girl than Tohma - the blond boy had inherited his mother's genes; the two were practically identical when you put them side by side.

Of course, Sukito didn't consider himself to be girly, and in truth, he really wasn't. At the age of 11, he was already well on his way to being bigger than his older cousin, having already outgrown his mother. His dark hair, although slightly long, gave him more of a shaggy look, than feminine, something that, with the arrogance of an adolescent, he thought that he pulled off quite nicely. Even the glasses only served to make him look studious and intelligent, which he was anyways, so it didn't bother him.

A soft sigh, slowly escaping Tohma's lips, brought Sukito out from his musing. The blond boy was now staring off into his daydreams, head supported by his one hand, the other fiddling with a pen on the table. Given the opportunity, he studied his older cousin carefully. With that blond hair, that fell around his neck like that, and those big green eyes, how could the girls resist? He was more than a little beautiful, and Sukito was more than a little jealous, but what could you do? Life's unfair.

With that philosophical note, he disregarded his jealousy, seeing as stray emotions like that always complicated things. It was really too bad that the boy hadn't been his age, but again, regret was an unnecessary emotion, so that was the last of that train of thought.

An uncharacteristic smirk crossed his lips. Hopefully this girl knew what she was getting into, if she chose to get involved with his flighty cousin. Maybe she was naturally perceptive, and could avoid the wily charms of the blond boy, but she would be one of the first. Perhaps he should give her a heads up.

Or not, why ruin Tohma's chance? After all, when his older cousin was mooning over a girl, he was prime for being taken advantage of, and when you're eleven years old, and you can't drive, or go anywhere by yourself, it was something to be cherished.

* * *

Suguru walked through the hallways quickly, avoiding any more eye contact with pictures, which wasn't too hard seeing as all the lights were turned off, making vision impossible. A curse flew from his mouth as he tripped over the tenth inanimate object that was lying in the hallways precariously.

This was getting ridiculous. He had to relent, and turn on a light, but strangely, Suguru had forgotten where the light switches were. It seemed like he had passed a million before, but now that he actually wanted the light, there weren't any. And it wasn't like he was going to go all the way back, especially when he couldn't see. At least he knew that there were definitely obstacles in that direction, so he might as well keep going forwards.

It was strange, really, that he felt so comfortable in the dark. As a child, he was petrified. Of course, a lot of children were, but he was so afraid that his parents had even considered therapy at one point.

"_There's a surprise for you in there Suguru!" A friendly arm was slung over his shoulder, and he looked up at its owner with admiration._

"_Yah! A surprise! I love surprises Sukito!" The funny smile on his brother's face made him uneasy, but that couldn't be right, because it was Sukito, and he was always nice to Suguru, so the small boy eagerly opened the closet door._

"_What is it? I can't see anything!" He leaned in the doorframe, peering into the dark. The vague outlines of the various contents of the room scared him a little, but he knew he was safe, because he was with Sukito, and nothing could hurt him._

_Even when he felt the pair of hands on his back, it wasn't scary. But when the closet door slammed shut behind him, and he found himself alone in the dark, Suguru could feel the familiar tendrils of fear wrapping around him. The shapes in the dark, that he could no longer see, started to take shape, and he imagined the noises of things creeping towards him._

_With a hysterical sob, Suguru flung himself against the door, trying desperately to open the door._

"_Sukito! Sukito! Help me! I'm locked in!" A cold laughter, that didn't sound anything like his brother came through the door._

"_That's what you get for messing around with my things." More of this strange laughter. Why was Sukito being so mean? What had he done this time to make his brother so angry? He didn't remember touching anything of Sukito's; he knew that it was out of bounds._

"_No! I didn't do anything! Please, let me out Sukito!" The small boy began slamming his fists against the door, ragged sobs tearing from his throat. "I swear, I didn't touch your stuff!"_

"_Oh, what's the matter, are you scared of the dark? Isn't that just like the silly, little girl you are…" Suguru was torn between making his idol proud of him, and battling his fears, or getting out of this hell. But he was weak, so weak, and he had to get out of there._

"_Please!" _

"_No, this is your punishment, and you'll take it like a man!" The sound of his brother enjoying himself made him sick; he knew that he must have done something really bad to deserve this. With a last scream, he went limp against the door, curling up into a ball to protect himself from everything._

_The sounds of murmering voices vaguely registered in his frightened state. Pushing himself up against the door, he could hear the sound of his older cousin's voice._

"_What're you doing, Sukito? Why are you by the door?"_

"_Tohma!" Suguru screamed and began banging on the door again, "Tohma! Please, I'm in here, let me out!"_

"_What the…you locked him in there? You –oh god!" There were the sounds of a short scuffle on the other side of the door, and Suguru started hitting the door even harder, occasionally kicking it with his small foot. Tears streamed down his face, mixing with the snot dripping out of his mouth, and he couldn't stop screaming._

_Suddenly, the door was wrenched open, and light flooded into the room. A figure outlined in the doorway reached out towards to catch him as he fell out into the hallway. _

_Tohma grabbed him and held him tight to his body, letting the small boy cry out all his tears into his nice shirt, and even whispering soothing words in his ear. From underneath the blond man's arm, Suguru saw his brother sitting against the wall, swollen eye cupped in his eyes, staring at the embracing boys with a hateful look twisting his face. As Suguru's sobs eventually calmed down, he rested his head on his older cousin's shoulder, and saw that Sukito was still standing there, looking at him with jealousy. As he reached out a tiny hand to his older brother, the boy flinched away._

"_Sukito, I'm sorry…please, I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…please forgive me…" Suguru watched in shock as his brother's face crumbled into tears, and Sukito crawled across the floor to him, still clutching a hand over his eye, where presumably Tohma had hit him. The sound of him crying was painful to the small boy's ears. He couldn't remember a time that he'd ever seen his brother show his emotions like this; there was an obvious struggle on Sukito's face._

_But even this show of such sadness was a welcome change from that look he had received before, that spiteful, horrible look that Suguru was clueless as to why he was at the receiving end of it. In truth, as much as he admired his older brother, he was afraid of him sometimes, especially since he was the biggest one in the family, and easily could have taken Tohma down had he wanted. _

_Suguru suspected that his brother had refrained from fighting back and harming Tohma, not because he was older, but because there was something about the blond man that made even his family tiptoe around him, as if afraid to provoke him in any way. Even at the age of six, Suguru could identify that aura around him, although he had never really been afraid of his cousin._

_Sukito collapsed on the floor beside them, and reached a hand up to stroke Suguru's cheek. "I'm sorry, little brother, I…I don't know…why I did it…can you forgive me?" Nodding, Suguru bit his lip to stop the sobs, and grabbed tightly around Sukito's neck._

_The three boys sat there in the hallway for half the night, hugging and comforting each other._

Suguru was brought out his memory by an ominous creaking sound, finding himself outside the very same closet from his memory. Bending down, he lightly caressed the spot where he remembered his brother to be standing.

_Sukito…I miss you_

* * *

Tohma sat in the seat of his car, contemplating a destination. He could go back home, to his empty apartment, that was always fun. Or he could go back to work, to be bothered insanely by Sakano and K. No, this was most definitely worthy of a visit to the bar.

As he drove down the highway, his thoughts inevitably strayed to the past, and they did when he wasn't paying attention. Tohma found himself remembering her, the curve of her neck, the softness of her lips, and the way she spoke to him, the way—

The sound of a horn snapped him out of his reverie, and he saw that he'd drifted across the line into the oncoming traffic lane. Quickly, he spun the steering wheel back, and narrowly escaped a head-on collision. Great. If he couldn't even drive now, how would he be after the bar?

But he was still going. He was still thinking about her, and he had to stop. So the bar was the only solution. Oh, the joy of being able to drink his memories into oblivion anytime he needed; there was something to be said for being friends with the bartender.

* * *

Alright, that's the end of Chapter Two. Please review and let me know what you think!


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